


for good, for keeps

by menocchio



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Post-Season/Series 01, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 01:36:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17356493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menocchio/pseuds/menocchio
Summary: He should have made sure Frank was in his corner from the very beginning.





	for good, for keeps

He goes over it in his head, retracing his moves and trying to figure out where he stepped wrong. Following the branching of possibilities back and every time, never minding his isolated pawn or undefended rook, he arrives at the same conclusion. A tactical error, massive in hindsight.

He should have made sure Frank was in his corner from the very beginning.

It used to make him crazy to think about the scant few miles between him and Frank when they were kids. How different things could’ve turned out, if they'd been neighbors or classmates or something. He could have used Frank back then, would have taken care of him in turn.

If it had been _them_ from the beginning, he would've made sure things turned out right.

Frank never would've ended up with Maria, torn in two like that, heart constantly shredded by fights and guilt and then taped backed together with perfumed kisses and lies agreed upon – lies abetted by the relieving distance of an ocean and a continent. Frank would never have needed the glare of the desert to throw his marriage into better light, as sweet a sight as the mirage of an oasis in the distance.

Back then, Frank wouldn't have called him pretty, because kids don't say shit like that to other kids, not in that way. But it would've been clear on his face the first time Billy went on his knees for him.

Frank probably would've been grateful. Back when he was just a troublemaking little shit in Queens, too violent, and before he grew into his face and hands? Billy would have ruled him with nothing more than the flat of his tongue.

Frank would have looked down at him afterwards and his eyes would've creased in a delighted smile – cousin to the one he wore as he laughed to private jokes years later in Afghanistan.

And Billy, he woulda _had_ him then. For good, for keeps, for as long as he wanted him – so forever, really, because there never was nobody better than Frank.


End file.
